


Dreams Like Stars in the Night Sky

by SparksInTheFuture



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Angst, Clockwork appears but only for 1 scene, Danny Fenton Needs A Hug, Dreams and Nightmares, Dude literally eats nightmares, Nocturne is an unintentional parent, Nocturne the dream catcher, Ozone and Haz's Fanfic Challenge #1, Revealing his identity to literally the whole world, Sorry but Phantom Planet complient, The expected result of a teenage superhero
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:21:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27772945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparksInTheFuture/pseuds/SparksInTheFuture
Summary: Nocturne prides himself on being a ghost who feeds off the dreams of the living. Almost as much as he prides himself on the destruction of the nightmares that plagued humanity. But when one particularly strong nightmare takes him through a stable ghost portal and into the house of ghost hunters, he makes a discovery about a new Halfa, and follows in the background as the boy develops and grows.The answer to a challenge fic on a Danny Phantom server featuring everyone's favourite dream ghost.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 72
Collections: Danny Phantom Server Prompt (Nightmares)





	1. Part 1

Nocturnes body glittered with the reflection of the cosmos, swirling galaxies and novae birthing thousands of new stars. It provided the old ghost of dreams the perfect cover as he drifted far above. The lights below him were almost a galaxy. Flickering LEDs and glowing streetlamps made a whirlwind of colour. But it was not the lights of the active cities and those accursed humans who lived the life of a night owl he was currently interested in. It was the quieter, darker parts of the world. Suburbs and quiet cul-de-sacs. Occasionally as the dream spirit passed, animals would tense up and begin to growl or hiss in his direction. With a mere wave of his hand, the baying animals curled up and joined their human masters in the unconscious plane. Dreaming of simple absurdities only the minds of animals could make sense of. He didn’t mind and passed quietly. Without a trace of his presence except the distant twinkling of the stars above him. Absorbing the passive energies put off by the dreamers all around him. The stars in his body burned brighter with the influx of strength.

Oh yes, he had always granted himself the power to absorb dreams. He could even weave ones from scratch if he so desired, see how the living and undead brains reacted to prods from the subconscious. Truly? The spectre needed no technology, though the brief time where armies of Sleepwalkers heeded his command was an…enlightening experience. His invasion of Amity Park six months prior had been a bit of a chance to show off. As well as to test the mettle of the infamous child ghost himself. Danny Phantom, as he liked to be called. In truth, Nocturne was aware of who the Halfa was, even before he became infamous to the Infinite Realms. He may not be officially recognised as an Ancient. But he was certainly old enough, as old as the first concepts of dreams. He knew when dreams turned to nightmares, dark and twisted fantasies generated by the mind of the dreamer. Before he knew it, Nocturne was drawing into his memories, back to that first night of meeting the young Phantom.

* * *

Despite what some may believe, he had no hand in nightmares. Those kinds of dreams were entirely spawned of their own accord, and Nocturne took great pleasure in snuffing the pests out. It could potentially be quite damaging to the psyche of the dreamer should he allow it to remain in the long run. He ate nightmares, quite literally, if they turned sour enough. Leading to them being forgotten by the time the sun rises. Nocturne considered himself of the rare variety of ghosts that fed off and preferred positive emotions to negative ones. It was in his nature to seek out good dreams and cause them where they were in short supply. He had a window of view to the very soul and guarded it even harder. Even if he were looking at this part of his afterlife through the most selfish lens that he could manage? The energy from nightmares was putrid, rotten and would stir uneasily in his body, He remembered sweeping over cities during times of great, traumatic crises. The nightmares of the masses made him physically sick, as powerful as he was (as powerful as _they_ were). His body was adorned with desolation and black holes during that time, instead of the nebulas that littered his form now. He was thankful that they never remained, or it would have been like ugly scars he was powerless to prevent the creation of.

These nightmares were what lead him to find the secret of the Halfa much earlier than anyone else could have anticipated. Mere days after the accident that afflicted Danny with a half-life. The portal that flickered into existence allowed him steady access to the human world without the unstable mess that was natural ghost portals. The dreams of one remarkably close to this portal were...intriguing. Enough for Nocturne to slip through undetected and phase up to the bedroom of Daniel Fenton. The boy shivered, and Nocturne backed away as a burst of frozen mist escaped the teenager’s lungs. Though he did not stir from where he was curled up under the covers. Nocturne could see the think sheet of sweat that clung to his form, where it was visible to him of course. And quickly becoming more visible, as the sheet above him bled its colours and presence away, Unintentional invisibility? Spread to an object?

Very intriguing indeed, the boy was still so decidedly human. Yet Nocturne could feel it inside him, like he was standing next to a star (an endothermic one at that. The boy had a Cold Core, certainly uncommon outside of the Yetis of the Far Frozen) a Ghost Core, malformed, clinging to what little ectoplasmic energy it had, but a Ghost Core nonetheless. It appears this child died without a true Obsession before he was revived. Perhaps the emotions of his human self are currently what is keeping his Core alive?

Another burst of icy mist from the teen's mouth, like his malformed Core, was attempting to warn him of apparent danger. The boy shivered in his bed and curled even further in on himself. Parts of his arms and legs were flickering in and out of the visible spectrum, taking the bed with it. The instinct to hide. A noise that almost broke the clinical composure that Nocturne had then happened. A whimper, something raw, desperate, and _terrified_. Nocturne could help but bend down in front of the face of the teenager. His eyes were moving rapidly under their lids and his face was contorted in an expression of pain. Multiple stars in Nocturne’s body died in an instant. Replaced by gleaming voids of black that tried to spread over his skin and swallow any light it found. Nocturne frowned at the unease growing in his ectoplasm (and the strange taste of copper that was growing on his tongue) and tapped one of his clawed fingers lightly against the dreamer’s forehead. Seeing into the dream through his eyes-

_Blinding agony, green burning into his retinas, electricity setting every nerve ending aflame, screaming into an abyss that only echoed it back. Hurts hurts hurts hurts **hurts hurts-**_

Nocturne recoiled from the memory-imprinted nightmare as if his hand had been burned by the gesture of seeing into the subject of the boy’s death. He was well familiar with the dreams of the freshly dead. After all, the only ones in the Infinite Realms who dream and enter his domain are those who had not been ghosts long enough to understand that sleep was essential only to those who were not made of ectoplasm. His Obsession and domain guided him to many who were new to the Infinite Realms, often he was the first face who was not immediately looking for a fight people came across. That quickly earned him the role of a new mentor. No matter how much he despised the notion. Though he could not mentor this boy, he was not quite of the Infinite Realms. He could do something else and gently waved his hand over the boy’s prone form.

Fine, silvery grains rained down from where he waved. Laying over the young Fenton’s body and sinking into the bedsheets and skin where it made contact. He watched as the tension left his form, the anxiety bleeding out of him as the nightmare was forcibly dissolved by Nocturnes power and devoured, leaving him in a blank and dreamless sleep. He was lax against his mattress, and the invisibility was pulled back into his unstable Core. Nocturne hummed to himself, taking inspiration from the darkened room around him. It seemed this boy was quite interested in the exploration of space. How quaint that his waking dreams aligned with his domain. Weaving together a dream of exploring the cosmos and alien worlds was something almost too easy for him to create. The boy’s lips curled upwards, obviously enjoying his new, happier dream and Nocturne was satisfied.

“Farewell, Ghost Child. A rarity in many senses, I will be looking forward to seeing how you grow in the coming years. Produce some good dreams in the minds of the people of your home. And perhaps…there will come a day where you are strong enough for me to test myself against you.”

He was gone, like a breeze in the night and blended in against the night sky. After all, he still had some hours before the dawn would chase his source of food away yet.

* * *

Nocturnes work was demanding by nature, it only made sense that he was nowhere near Amity Park for at least the next few months, absorbing the dreams of those around him and devouring the worse nightmares he came across. Around the world he went, sweeping across continents and absorbing what he could. Dreams were such an abundant resource in the world of the living that he could afford to spend months, even years away from the safety of the Infinite Realms and not be any worse off than when he initially left. They were strange things, so surreal but so packed with emotion that each one could arguably be a healthy meal to him. Eventually, his travels allowed him to cycle back around to America.

Even though he was nowhere near destabilising, he should head back to Amity Park soon. Where the Ghost Portal was. If only to reaffirm his presence in the ghost zone and reassure those young ghosts who were under his protection in his Lair. A ghost as powerful as he, missing for as long as he was. Surely a small ruckus was worthy of it. Amity Park was easy to detect, even from halfway across the world. A place where the barrier between this reality and the Infinite Realms was at its thinnest. For ghosts, it was like the entire town gleamed with a layer of ectoplasm in its atmosphere. It had been neutral, unclaimed ground for as long as anyone could remember. Simply because taking ownership of a place like this was a simple invitation to be in the firing range of every moderately strong ghost in the Realms. Ghosts did like to take things they believed were theirs after all.

Which was why, when he entered the city limits for Amity Park, he was surprised to find the feeling of the ectoplasm had changed…ownership. This ectoplasm now reflected ownership. Was a ghost insane enough to try and lay claim to a place like Amity Park and make it their Haunt? They were inviting an attack from half the Realms! The only way they could have done this with honesty is if they had no clue how anything in the Infinite Realms works-  
  
 _The Ghost Child_. Nocturne realised. The stars in his coat flaring briefly like a nebula. Of course, it had to be the Ghost Child. He had no idea how the world he had stepped into worked. He was never around to say anything either. Nor had he even considered asking another ghost about educating him. Being of the Infinite Realms or not, it was foolish to leave such a young ghost to their own devices. So, the starry ghost drifted through the streets, leaving no trace of his presence when he left an area.

There was something unusual about the inner city, and Nocturne hummed to himself with a frown. He knew the signs of fights, scorch marks against buildings, indents on the roads. A trace, acrid smell that only ectoplasm splashed on the surface of this world could bring.

“So, the ghost child had made himself enemies already.” Nocturne muttered, knowing at least a portion of these holes were the appropriate size for a child ghost. He had it rough, the ghost scratched at his chin with a single, clawed finger.  
“He should have known, this was brought upon himself.” He muttered, attempting to distance himself from the consequences of his lack of action. Though it did little to still the uncomfortable thrum of his ghost core.

The neon sign and observatory made the FentonWorks residence (and the portal to the Infinite Realm) an easy building to find. Though Nocturne found himself pausing just before arriving at the end of the street. The presence of ownership was more powerful than ever, and even though by no means, the Halfa was a threat to him. The jump in strength was almost alarming in the eyes of the old ghost. Just a few months ago he was struggling to remain stable. Now he was radiating a truly intimidating presence. Ward off the weakest ghosts and make a challenge to the stronger.

Nocturne narrowed his eyes, and started down the street, gliding along the concrete like the ethereal being he was and masking his presence as much as the ancient ghost could manage. Ghosts could sense one another’s presence by nature. Even if this one had a unique way of showing it, he still operated under those laws. If he was careful enough, Nocturne shouldn’t arouse attention until he was close enough to use his dream powers on him.

He made it to the Halfas window before seeing the blue, frozen mist spill from the boy’s lips. The reaction was entirely different from the last time he was here. Blue eyes snapped open, his entire body tensed like he was ready to jump out of bed and strike then and there. But by that time, it was already too late. Nocturnes clawed hand swept over the Halfas form and he went limp within an instant. The ghost of Dreams frowned a little, for most his power took at least a precious few seconds to take effect. That reaction was almost instantaneous.

“Sacrificing your sleep, Ghost Child?” Nocturne's voice drifted gently around the room where the Halfa lay at his complete mercy.

“I cannot say I’m surprised. You have made yourself a target, foolish boy. Taking ownership of a portal to the Infinite Realms while you’re newly formed.” Nocturne scolded the unconscious Halfa, who was not going to respond to him either way. Though there was something different about the half-ghost, and Nocturne found himself leaning down a little to check. Yes…now that was the feeling of a proper Ghost Core. It thrummed healthily under his skin. Perhaps he had found an obsession to steady his existence after all. Curiously, he watched the boy’s eyebrows knit together in an expression that was growing pained. Another nightmare? Was he still experiencing flashes of his partial death? Or perhaps, did he have anything else bothering him?

This time, when Nocturne pushed his influence into the dream, there were multiple flashes. Presumed foes that the boy had fought, a few faces he could even recognise (Walker was a persistent annoyance, even to the oldest and most powerful ghosts. Nocturne had 2500 years on a sentence for the most ludicrous things he didn’t bother remembering). Many fights, many instances where he was hurt, where he had to retreat. But he came back, stronger. Yet he feared failing above all else, his nightmare was easy proof. He hadn’t been fast enough, strong enough, or whatever form of _enough_ was required. Somehow the Halfa was attracting many forms of trouble. But he could sense it, and an old instinct began to stir within his ancient Core.

The boy was growing, getting stronger. These nightmares and the scars on his body were proof he could _fight._ Nocturne hadn’t been bested in many decades. His ability to control the dream realm and even force ghosts into sleep made him a crafty and formidable opponent. But he heard the rumours and theories. Ghosts and their Cores formed from their experiences during life, or the strength of the concepts that birthed their sentience. Stronger lives, stronger ghosts. A simple concept. But Halfas were caught on the divide that separated the living and the dead. They were dead and had Cores, but they still experienced. They still lived. Their Cores had a unique opportunity to strengthen organically many times faster than any pure ghost could hope to achieve.

“…hm…not yet. I believe.” Nocturne decided, a glint in his eyes as he backed down from the sleeping Ghost Child.  
“It is too soon, you are strong in your right Ghost Child, but the differences in our power is simply too much. I will wait, we will meet properly when you have grown. Then we will see wherein this cosmic ladder you belong.”

His presence in Amity Park was more than enough to ward off the weaker ghosts from appearing until the morning came, chasing his food source away. He slipped into the Infinite Realms unnoticed. As if he never entered the human realm at all.  
  


* * *

  
His information on the Ghost Child was scattered across time in the Infinite Realms. He was becoming a thorn in the side of many in the Realms. Though some were adamant on him being a helpful Spirit. Though Nocturne rarely felt it was his business, he could guess the boy’s obsession lay within a protective realm. A guardian perhaps? Nevertheless, his efforts and notoriety grew just like Nocturne had predicted. His status as a hybrid allowed him accelerated growth as a ghost. His brash decision to claim Amity Park as his own may have been strategic after all. His experiences became routinely extreme, further encouraging the growth of his Core.

The first instance where Nocturne gained the itch to test himself against the young Halfa was when he discovered the Ghost Childs name. Danny Phantom. How did he proclaim this name? By attacking the Ghost King, himself, Pariah Dark. Taking on the king of all ghosts in itself was a difficult job, even for the oldest ghosts in the Realms. But a mere, half-dead child taking victory? An idea that was unheard of. It excited him. Though Nocturne forced himself to hold back. No, not now. The boy was assisted by an exoskeleton he had commandeered. If it took such extensive outside influence to match powerful beings like Pariah Dark, then he would still have no contest. Where was the fun in beating an opponent who never stood a chance? He would wait.

This was the only period in history Nocturne could remember where such an event occurred. Though time and space in the metaphysical sense were not his jurisdictions. Ancient ghosts could sometimes ‘sense’ when something happened to shake up the domains of time and space. It happened twice, in relatively rapid succession. Though Clockwork revealed nothing about either of these incidents.

Nocturne decided on a whim that somehow Danny Phantom was related to these unusual surges in the fabrics of reality anyway.  
  


* * *

  
It was the defeat of Undergrowth, a fellow ancient ghost that finally convinced Nocturne to put aside his wait and claim a fight against Phantom. Now. He could not remember experiencing this kind of vigour at the prospect of fighting someone whom he was rapidly beginning to consider an equal. Even though he was not yet over a year old! An accomplishment to be sure!

He was in his lair for days, planning and sculpting how he would fight Phantom. After all, he may be a powerful ghost but just like any ghost, his hunger for theatrics was insatiable.

The news of Vortex’s defeat only further spurred on his vigour.

These helmets and machines were just…urgh. There was hardly even any personal flair to tell these machines belonged to him. He would have so loved to design it better than this. But he was no Technus. He was not allowing involvement from outside. Especially not from ghosts who already had regular grudge matches with Phantom. This was his fight and his alone. These machines may not be to the standards he desired. But he had no true use for them, this was showmanship. And it was time to test himself against the Halfa.

“Prepare yourself, Ghost Child. For I, Nocturne, wish to see just how strong you truly are.”


	2. Part 2

The beginning of this little plan was simple enough, he managed to put the Halfa to sleep without too much trouble. Now, to induce the kind of dream he would recognise as a false reality and the _real_ fun will begin.

…

…

…

Why wasn’t he waking up? Nocturne found himself prowling across the mattress factory where he had set up his little “base camp” with increasing levels of irritation. Why was the Ghost Child not waking up!? The dream that he created should have caused him to start lucid dreaming by now! Perfect scores? His usual bully behaving civilly with him with seemingly no reason? Being the star of a sports team despite previously showing no interest in trying out? Realms, even everyone knowing of his secret identity and accepting it had not phased him!

…was he that desperate to earn the approval of his living peers? That he would throw all known logic out the window to enjoy this fantasy?

Nocturne leaned back against the machine that would feed him an absurd amount of dream energy, its gentle hum betraying the steady gathering of the power from the citizens unconscious all around Amity Park.

“Strange, Ghost Child.” Nocturne mused to himself, watching through his mind's eye as the boy floated back down to a cheering crowd of peers.  
“Before now I would have called this a good dream. Or from the perspective of false hope. Is this dream really a nightmare of my own creation?”

…it was the female. The gothic female. A kiss, of course. Such _irony._ He watched his constructed trap of a dream turn to static and cut off, the signal from the helmet feeding Phantom’s dreams into the machine going dark abruptly.

“Going for the fairy tale beginning are we, Ghost Child?” Nocturne asked the thin air, knowing full well Phantom would be coming back from the Infinite Realms where he was thrown into any minute now. The entire Realms knew he intended to challenge Phantom for control over Amity Park. So long as Phantom was not a clear loser, he would not be bothered.  
“Now, the game is _truly_ afoot.”  
  


* * *

  
It took less than a day to be bested. Less than a _day._ If it was any other situation, then Nocturne would have been beside himself with rage at the idea of being outplayed by a child of all things. But today his Core was filled with nothing but the pulsing feeling of mirth, amusement. Satisfaction. Oh. The Ghost Child had grown so strong, enough to take on his entire army of Sleepwalkers! Besting the Master of Dreams was not an easy task, and yet Danny Phantom had emerged victorious. He had gotten what he wished, a challenge. An honest bout, and nothing.

Nocturne knew his place in the cosmic ladder now, he was not stronger than Phantom. He was fine with it, may the strongest in the Infinite Realms prosper after all.

“Had your fun?” A familiar voice asked him, and Nocturne chuckled, dissipating a few of the Sleepwalkers he had been forming absentmindedly since he was released from that accursed Thermos and back into the “Ghost Zone”. As the Ghost Child-, no Phantom. Called it. Just because Phantom and his little crew of human helpers had foiled his attempt at absorbing the rawest essence of Amity Park’s dreams did not mean he felt a little bloated on the energy after all. Usually, he got that out by forming Sleepwalkers to perform some menial tasks for him. He will admit, the sudden loss of the machine he built was enough of a shock to disrupt him long enough for Phantom to secure the victory. But he was above such petty reasons for a rematch.

Oh yes, his visitor.

“A worthy adversary indeed.” Nocturne agreed, turning towards the blue skinned-purple cloaked ghost carrying a staff in his hand, switching from an infantile to a prime adult form.  
“The young Phantom progressed faster than even I anticipated; I could not resist the allure of someone unmatched against me. He proved his standing; I have no further quarrels with him.” Nocturne responded dismissively, waving his clawed hand at the other ghost.  
“It is rare to see you leaving the confines of your Lair, Clockwork.”

Clockwork hummed in response.  
“The Observants may believe they have me wrapped around their finger, but once in a while, I do like to “slip my leash” a little. The fact you were intent on bothering my Charge was motivation enough.”

The only response was Nocturne rolling his eyes…or making the gesture of doing so. Expressions were hard when one lacked irises or pupils. The relationship that the young Phantom had with the Master of Time was a closely guarded secret. There were many a spirit who would kill, even obliterate to change the past. Phantom was powerful but leaving him out of the reach of the more depraved ghosts and therefore, leave Clockwork having to worry less was a good idea. Nocturne knew of their relationship, but only because Clockwork considered him a trusted friend.

“I am aware, Clockwork. Worry not, the boy has proven his strength to me. No doubt, as it stands, he is one of the most powerful ghosts in all the Infinite Realms. His status as a Guardian of Amity Park only accelerated that.” Nocturne found himself smiling.  
“He will be welcome in my presence, should that ever be required.”

* * *

But those interactions had been some time ago. Now with the passing of the Ectoranium Asteroid. The humans called it the “Disasteroid” if he remembered. A sad week indeed, so many nightmares of the world coming to an end. The entire world knew Phantom’s identity. He was there for a part of the reveal, after all, he helped to turn the planet intangible. A year ago, he would have thought of such a feat impossible for even Pariah Dark. In that time, however, he managed to prove himself no threat to the world. Nocturne was free to pass in and out of Amity Park, through the Ghost Portal that linked their dimensions together. So long as he wasn’t forcing the dreamers into sleep and taking the power of dreams by force.

It took longer than he liked for such an agreement to be reached. But perhaps his sense of timing was poor, the hunter ghost had made good on his promise to hunt Phantom to the day he was obliterated. He just happened to be in town directly after Skulkers latest attempts at skinning the young Halfa.

And speaking of the young Halfa. He could see his wispy, formless shadow under the dull streetlights growing more defined against the bitumen underneath him thanks to the ethereal green shine of a charging ectoblast. There was only one ghost in the human world who had enough courage to try and blast him out in the open like this. The horned ghost shook his head slowly, chuckling.

“We really must stop meeting like this, Phantom.”

“Don’t you have some dreams to be prowling around under some kids bed nibbling on?” Phantom sounded irritated, Nocturne found it funny he could distinguish the Guardian Spirit’s mood from the quality of his puns and insults.

“And don’t you have some dreams to be creating?” The dream ghost responded flatly, turning around, and looking the young Halfa up and down. His aura was dulled, heavy bags under his eyes. Clearly, he had not slept in a few days, properly at least. It was currently one in the morning roughly as well, from the position of the moon.  
“As I doubt your Ghost Core can replace a human’s need for sleep, Ghost Child.” Despite his best efforts, Nocturne felt the tone of a scolding parent creeping into his voice anyway.

“You don’t say?” Phantom’s reply was sarcastic venom. He was swaying minutely where he floated, trying his best to stay alert. Nocturne could tell he was failing.  
“Considering I’ve rounded up a good 5 ghosts trying to cause problems tonight? It is hard for me to take a break. Now, are you going back to the Ghost Zone? Or am I dragging you back in there?”

“I am honouring our agreement, Phantom. I am here to cause no trouble and passively absorbing the energy of the dreamers. Just like you permit me. Have you forgotten already?” He asked, but the Halfa was already on the ground. Standing, thankfully. But he looked ready to topple over.

Nocturne could not stop the flare of worry rising in his Core. His arm swept over Phantom, releasing his cloud of mist. Like Deja vu, the young ghost’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and Nocturne found the ghost falling into his arms. The elder ghost able to catch him easily before he fell. Not even a moment of resistance, he had been stretching himself thin again.

“You are going to obliterate yourself one of these days. Continuing to ignore your basic needs.” Nocturnes scolding had taken on a gentler tone while he carries the Halfa up to his room in Fentonworks and lay him down on his bed. He watched as Phantom transformed back into his human half, shifting on the bed like he recognised the place as relatively safe. Though his lack of active influence over the subconscious was starting to spawn a nightmare. From the way, his brows knitted together, and he tensed against the covers he was spread over the top of. The dream ghost sighed, knowing it was probably invasive and considered a violation of their agreement should start influencing Phantom’s dream now. But he could see his stars beginning to dim.

“Agreement or not, nothing will stand in the way of my obsession, Ghost Child.” In an action well practised by now, Nocturne tapped the tip of his shadowy claw against Danny’s forehead and slipped into the nightmare.

_Phantom was alone, the entire area misty and covered in shadows to the point where anything beyond the spotlight that illuminated the small area where he floated. The spotlight in question was harsh, blinding even. The kind of brightness that could make any ghost want to curl up in the nearest dark and safe corner to be away from it. Yet the Halfa was rooted to the spot, refusing, or too stunned to move an ectoplasmic muscle._

_Currently, he was huddled over in a slightly crouched position, silver-gloved fingers woven into his snowy white hair and making an honest attempt to hide from the spotlight. He was doing no such job; however, in fact, his ethereal green glow was making him stand out against the indistinguishable background even more. Everywhere else you looked was nothing, naturally Phantom was the only point of interest._

_And Nocturne was far from the only observer, though he may be invisible to the dreamer, the presence of all the others looking at Phantom was impossible to miss. Pairs of eyes, all different colours, shapes, age lines. They were the only thing that penetrated the darkness that surrounded him. Some made the expression of pleading, appealing to Phantom’s obsession to help and protect, others were sterner, looking down upon him for perceived or observed earlier misdeeds. Some were even detached and clinical, more like they were looking at an interesting variant of an exotic plant than a fellow living, breathing human. His status as a halfa be damned. He recognised the eyes of ghosts as well, many of whom had sworn to destroy him. Or he had personally angered. Even if he did not. They were currently making his already difficult life even worse._

_And with the stares, would naturally come the half-formed whispers from vaguely familiar voices._

_“-danger to our children-“_

_“-scum-“_

_“-shouldn’t even exist-“_

_“Please help us-“_

_“You’re a hero!”_

_“-fascinating how his blood is reliant on ectoplasm to function-“_

_“-almost like a corpse-“_

_“-How could you be the Ghost Boy!?”_

_“-hang your pelt on my wall-“_

_“-anti-ecto acts-“_

_“Will need to re-write the entire law book-!”_

_“I will hope you use these…abilities responsibly, Mr Fenton.”_

_“If you expose me, you expose yourself, Little Badger.”_

_The atmosphere was crushingly heavy, Nocturne noticed without much thought. It was only getting heavier as well. Ah. So, this was what having the weight of the entire world weighing you down felt like. Phantom was just a child, even dying young. He may have a foot in the door to the afterlife, but that did not automatically grant maturity. If this dream told Nocturne anything, its that the weight of all these expectations…good or bad was beginning to get to the young Halfa. The stress that was coming off Phantom was not good, even for a ghost._

_“S-Stop it!” Danny’s voice finally cut through the oppressive atmosphere, but it was quickly drowned out by the crowd again.  
“I can’t prove myself to all of you!” The young ghost shivered, and the ground underneath him turned to the kind of mush where he was starting to sink through it. It took a moment for him to notice the consistency shift, but he let out a panicked yelp and tried to pull himself up and out of it. Phase through, fly anything. His efforts proved futile and when he sank low enough for the white band around his waist to disappear. Nocturne finally had enough._

_His starry essence filled and collapsed the nightmare, digging into the roots and overtaking it. The taste was hideous on his ectoplasmic tongue and his Core shivered with discomfort. But the nightmare was devoured as quickly as it manifested._

Nocturne growled a little as he re-entered reality. That nightmare tasted foul, although he had come to know Phantom for potent nightmares. People in his line of duty often would, but the idea of him being a mere child surfaced in his Core again. He was willingly shouldering a burden that no one living or dead in their right mind would expect a child his age too.

He would almost consider it sad.

The Halfa looked calmer now, lax against his bed and with a steady rise and fall of his chest. The first night of actual sleep he had gotten in a few days at least. Nocturne shook his head, but then looked outside. It was only 1:30 am, not late enough for him to simply leave and go back to the Infinite Realms. Someone would wander through and rouse Phantom…then likely pick a fight with him that would chase away a great majority of his nightly food.

“So be it.” The ghost of sleep sighed, floating down once he moved through the window.

“Sleepwalkers, form.” He commanded, watching multiple of his trusted guards rising out of thin air in front of him. Six, he counted. In a unified groan, they all stared expectantly at their master.

“Any ghosts that come through from the Infinite Realms. Turn them back. Ensure that Phantom does not need to be awoken. You may dismiss yourselves at daybreak.” He was answered with a chorus of groans, and the sleepwalkers all took up positions around Fentonworks, ready to turn any ghost that came through back to the Ghost Zone. So, their master may feed uninterrupted. Purely that purpose.

“Consider yourself lucky, Phantom. That I am entertaining the idea of being generous tonight. I will take my collected dreams with me at dawn.”

He left the Fentonworks residence shortly after, continuing his sweep of Amity Park and absorbing the energy of dreamers until the first streaks of light, where the sun and the daytime would chase away his food source. By that time, the starry ghost vanished into the Infinite Realms. His Sleepwalkers vanished not moments later, their job complete and relatively uneventful.

And if Danny Fenton awoke the next morning with directions to a few lairs in the Ghost Zone home to therapists who were guaranteed many times better than a certain Penelope Spectra? Well…that was no one’s business now was it?


End file.
